The Classics File 2: The one with Humphrey Bogart

 

 

Title: Petrified Forest

What Year?: 1936

Classification: Prototype

Rating: It’s Okay! (3/3)

 

As I write this, I am once again thinking about bringing my No Good Very Bad Movies feature to an end. For this lineup in particular, I have been proceeding slowly because I’ve really been working this out as I go. I really started with one particular film I have meant to get to last, and will still need a little more time to obtain and examine. For the actual opening, I got in Dracula, which I was satisfied to be deserving even sight unseen. That still left the middle opening, and the real problem was that “classics”, overrated or otherwise, aren’t really what I do. If there’s anything I don’t like to do, it’s talking about movies everyone else is already talking about, and the thing about “classics” is that even the haters are unlikely to say anything that hasn’t been said many times before. So I let several promising candidates slide while I waited to see if something different crossed my path. Sure enough, I got one that was truly the kind of film I would take on. I present Petrified Forest, the most classic film you may never have heard of.

Our story begins in a café in the deserts of the southwest, where nobody seems to live except colorful characters such as a would-be football hero and an old-timer who insists he was shot at by Billy the Kid. In the midst of it, the lovely waitress Gabrielle reads great books and dreams of a better life, notwithstanding the best efforts of the football player to woo her. Her hopes are rekindled by the arrival of Alan, a very British literati/ proto-Beatnik who wavers between wooing her and admitting his own dashed hopes. Unfortunately, another new arrival is Duke, a criminal whose gang takes the patrons and staff hostage. As the authorities close in, the prisoners try to bond with their captors. But Alan already has a plan to be a hero and make Gabrielle rich- even if he has to die doing it!

Petrified Forest was a 1936 drama by Warner Bros, directed by Archie Mayo. The film was based on a 1935 play of the same name by Robert E. Sherwood, previously adapted for Lux Radio Theatre. The movie starred the English actor Leslie Howard as Alan and Bette Davis as Gabrielle, with Humphrey Bogart in his first major role as the criminal Duke Mantee. Howard reportedly insisted on working with Bogart after they performed the same roles together in stage productions of the play. The film was successful enough to be credited with launching Bogart’s career, though it received mixed reviews from contemporary and later critics. Howard died in 1943 at age 50, in the midst of promoting the Allied cause in World War 2. Davis continued with a successful career that arguably peaked with the 1962 film Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? The film has remained available and generally known, notably being referenced and/ or parodied in media such as Merry Melodies/ Looney Tunes and The Carol Burnett Show. It is available for digital rental or purchase on multiple platforms.

For my experiences, my main frame of reference for this one is that I grew up on a fair diet of Bogart movies. My favorite was Treasure of the Sierra Madre, in hindsight a good candidate for the first “anti-Western”. I also saw at an early date the likes of Casa Blanca, The Maltese Falcon and Key Largo, I’m sure among others. (And I’ll give you one guess which one I really don’t like…) At any rate, I heard of the present film not long ago from a close friend who follows old-time radio. It interested me enough to land in my snail-Netflix rental queue, along with a certain other film I have plans for. I checked to see if anyone wanted to watch it with me, then watched it all on my own. I mostly just found it odd, all the more so for being largely unremarkable.

Moving forward, the description that best fits this film is “mannered”, if not entirely stilted. The cast of characters are a little too developed to be called cliches, yet the things that differentiate them from “stock” are predictable in their own way. Gabrielle, by far the most likeable character, wants to get out in the wider world while clearly lacking any frame of reference for it. Her would-be boyfriend is obviously going nowhere, whether or not he knows it. Alan is simply a mess, which I will get back to. Most curiously, Bogart is strikingly uncomplicated. We don’t learn anything about his backstory except a possible weakness for women with no qualms about turning on him. As far as his on-screen behavior, he isn’t charismatic enough to work as a “Robin Hood” type, nor is he sadistic enough to indulge in evil for its own sake. Finally, we aren’t given any reason to think better of him by the end, beyond the fact that he makes his last stand in front of the diner rather than hiding behind the civilians. Ultimately, he is simply a stock villain who by all indications was never meant to be anything else, which would certainly have been making a statement at a time when outlaws were being elevated to folk heroes.

Beyond these considerations, the simple fact is that this is far more talk than action, albeit with very good dialogue. The fundamental “problem” is that out of all the characters, the focus falls on Alan and Gabrielle. By any realistic or reasonable appraisal, Alan has even fewer evident redeeming qualities than Duke, and the fact that he freely admits his faults and failings just exposes him as self-centered. His nominal romance with Gabrielle is farcically short even by Hollywood standards, which they both clearly know. Where I call foul is his emerging fixation on sacrificing himself for Gabrielle’s benefit, long after it is clear that neither of them are in danger apart from stray bullets. His eventual scheme is, at best, subjecting her to a traumatic experience for limited financial benefit, and at worst, a bid to place her psychologically in his debt indefinitely without making any commitment to take care of her. This is literally psychotic, and on top of that, it’s emotional blackmail. If he wasn’t bent on self-inflicted martyrdom, this could easily turn far, far uglier if the relationship went on for any length of time.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going to have to go from memory. Early on, Gabrielle is outside reading when the football hero arrives; that would be Dick Foran, a stage, film and TV actor who was also an accomplished singer. When she gets up, he follows her and goes for a kiss with no encouragement from her. It’s even more uncomfortable than might be expected in a more enlightened time. Still, the lady does talk to him, and he backs off enough to count as conceding to her wishes. As things continue, we get a sense of somewhat dysfunctional familiarity that I doubt I could describe even if I could find the clip. It’s a low-key example of good dialogue and character development for its own or any other time. I have to say I find it to be the most natural interaction in the entire film.

In closing, I come back to the simple question of what makes an “overrated” film. This film is the kind that approaches that description without quite getting there, for better or worse. Its fame is too modest to be called undeserved, while still clearly owing far more to the later fame of its stars than its own merits. Yet, it equally clearly remains watchable and generally entertaining, which is certainly more than can be said for many far younger films. Ultimately, it’s the kind of movie where praising it as a “great” movie would be more of a disservice than calling it a bad one, because it is that kind of hype that sets viewers up for disappointment. If it is instead approached as an interesting film, especially as an early sample of the stars involved, then it could easily prove a pleasant surprise. That is the kind of “classic” I can get behind.